


The Crow Whisperer

by UnhelpfulPanda



Series: JohnDave Week [12]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, JohnDave Week, M/M, Minor Violence, mentions of animal death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 01:33:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15159482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnhelpfulPanda/pseuds/UnhelpfulPanda
Summary: The city Dave Strider lived in was full of crime, and the only way he had stayed safe was staying in his own lane and keeping his head down.Oh, and the fact that he could communicate with crows.But after a superhero named The Tornado shows up in town, Dave realizes he can do so much more than mind his own business....Also, The Tornado is super attractive, so there's that, too.(Day 2 of johndaveweek 2018, superhero)





	The Crow Whisperer

            The city Dave Strider lived in was full of crime. He constantly saw shady shit going on around him, so he stayed in his own lane and kept his head down to avoid trouble.

            Dave had another, more unique way to avoid trouble. He was gifted, or maybe cursed, with the ability to communicate with crows. It only worked on crows and no other animals, but sometimes the crows would act as translators for other birds if he asked them nicely and bribed them with doritos or french fries. The crows also kept a lookout for anyone waiting for an unsuspecting victim to harass, mug, murder, or otherwise harm. If they saw someone suspicious on Dave’s normal route, they would plot a safer detour for him to take.

            “It’s only because no one else can understand us and feed us exactly what we want, of course!” One of his regular companions, named Rambo, had told him once when he asked why they helped him.

            “Also, we think you’re a pretty rad dude, so it would suck if you were ganked,” another regular companion, the first he had ever named (who he named Davesprite, just because), had added in.

            Dave was fortunate enough to stay out of trouble, but he knew the rest of the city wasn’t so lucky and it made him feel guilty to hear the crows gossip about the latest crimes and who was hurt. So when a superhero showed up in town, he was relieved that someone could help the city in need.

            The new superhero called himself The Tornado, which wasn’t exactly all that clever or original, but he had flight and wind manipulation, so it was fitting at the very least. The crows reported he must be new at the hero thing, though, because he frequently made mistakes. None of his fuckups ever caused casualties or major injuries, but criminals were constantly evading him.

            The crows loved to talk shit about him, but Dave was sure even they were relieved to hear someone was finally protecting the city. Plus, from what Dave had seen of him the few times he was close enough, he was very attractive. He had messy, windswept black hair and bright blue eyes. His face was obscured by a mask over his eyes and a bandana covering his mouth, so it was hard to see him fully, but Dave liked what he could see. He had a bit of a crush on the hero. Just a little one.

            The crows liked to tease him about that, too.

* * *

 

            One day, while Dave was outside munching down on some french fries and occasionally waving off a crow sneaking in too close to his food, Davesprite and Rambo landed in front of him.

            “That super idiot is flying above the city looking for a kidnapper!” Rambo complained.

            “A kidnapper?” Dave asked.

            “Yep, some creep snatched a six year old girl. The Tornado had him in his sights, but he got distracted trying to find a cop to actually apprehend the guy and he bolted. With the girl,” Davesprite explained.

            “And he’s just flying around above the city while the kidnapper is holed up in a building! How is he gonna see someone in a building??” Rambo squawked.

            “Wait,” Dave dropped the fry in his hand and didn’t even notice as Davesprite snatched it up, “you know where the kidnapper is?”

            “Sure we do, we got Seb watching through the window and reporting on what the guy is doing. So far, he’s just pacing around and occasionally yelling at the girl while she cowers in the corner, crying. It’s actually pretty horrifying, honestly,” Davesprite described.

            “And who knows what the creep will do to her next,” Rambo grumbled.

            “Can you tell me where the building is?” Dave asked, leaning forward towards them. They looked to each other and then back to him.

            “You aren’t planning to rescue her yourself, are you?” Davesprite asked.

            “Give me the rest of your fries and the location is yours,” Rambo bargained. Davesprite flapped his wings and squawked at the other bird, but Dave was already sliding his fries over.

* * *

 

            “Why are we up here?” One of Dave’s crow voices of reason, Lily, inquired of him.

            ‘Up here’ referred to on top of a high rise building nearby Dave’s apartment. “I had to get higher up so The Tornado would be able to hear me better,” Dave answered, muttering a quick, “hopefully…” under his breath after.

            “Yeah, sure, I get that, but _why_ are we getting his attention?” Lily sighed, exasperated.

            “We know where the kidnapper and the little girl are, he doesn’t. Obviously, if we tell him, he is better equipped to rescue her,” Dave explained.

            “So… what, you’re just going to yell ‘ _hey Tornado_!’ and hope he hears and flies his blue ass over here?” Davesprite asked skeptically.

            Dave cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey Tornado! Over here!” he shouted in the direction of the flying hero.

            “I legit cannot believe you yelled ‘ _hey Tornado_!’ and are hoping he hears you and flies his blue ass over here,” Davesprite deadpanned. Dave pointedly ignored the criticism, focused on the flying figure as he paused, hovering in the air and looking around in confusion.

            Dave waved his arms, annoyed, like ‘ _yeah, over here doofus, I’m the one who called you_ ’. Finally, The Tornado noticed his waving and flew towards him. “Very sorry, Citizen, I’m afraid I have a more urgent matter to attend to right now. Please sit tight; I will save you as soon as I can,” he recited in an authoritative, professional voice as soon he was close enough.

            “No, dude, I don’t need saving,” Dave sighed, rolling his eyes behind his shades.

            “Well then why the hell are you calling me over??” the hero suddenly whined, abandoning all traces of maturity. “I got a little girl in a lot of danger and I gotta find her!”

            “That’s the whole reason, dickmunch. She’s over in that building over there,” Dave retorted, pointing. From behind the mask, he could see those bright blue eyes narrow suspiciously.

            “How the fuck do you know that?” he demanded. Dave dropped his arm down to his side, mind racing a mile a minute trying to think of an answer.

            “A… little bird told me?” Dave replied uncertainly. All three of the crows with him lost their shit, hopping around and mocking him. The Tornado tilted his head curiously, then shrugged.

            “Well, I’ll just have to take you along to get better directions!” he announced, swooping down and sweeping Dave off his feet with a small “hup!”

            Dave couldn’t help the small shriek that was startled out of him, clutching tightly to the front of the hero’s costume. The Tornado chuckled at him, still holding him bridal style as he flew off towards the direction Dave had pointed.

            Once he had steered the other man to the correct location, he was set down on the top of that building. “Stay here. I’ll be back for you afterwards,” he ordered sternly. Dave gave him a lazy salute and watched him as he crashed through the window hiding the kidnapper.

            Maybe about ten minutes later, The Tornado was hovering in front of the blonde, a middle aged man limp under one arm and a little girl held in the other arm, clinging tightly to him with her face buried in the crook of his neck.

            “Uh… my hands are full. I gotta get her home, and get this piece of trash to the police station. So hang tight, I’ll be back,” he explained.

            “Wait, come closer for a second,” Dave ordered. The Tornado hesitantly flew closer, and Dave kicked the kidnapper in the face. The man groaned, but otherwise didn’t stir.

            “Hey!” the hero cried. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly and flew off.

            “Nice one,” Seb complimented from nearby. Dave chuckled to himself.

* * *

 

            When The Tornado returned, he was alone. Instead of continuing to float in front of him, he landed next to Dave. “Why did you kick him?” he huffed.

            “He deserved it,” Dave stated.

            “Well, yeah, maybe! But I try to inflict as little damage as possible, and you gave him a broken nose,” The Tornado grumbled.

            “That’s why you keep fucking up!” Dave snapped. “If you had socked him in the nose in the first place instead of being a morally superior dickbag, that little girl would have been home before dinner!”

            “I know! But all these anti-vigilante groups complain about roughing up criminals, how we have no right to be inflicting punishment on them, how its innocent until proven guilty, blah blah blah,” he complained.

            “Who cares?” Dave demanded.

            “ _I_ care!” The hero threw his arms in the air. “You cannot even fathom how hard it is to be a political talking point, where most politicians are saying I’m just as bad as the criminals I put away. The other portion is asking about _if_ I was to go off the deep end, how would they be able to stop me? It’s frustrating, and honestly kind of hurtful. And they talk about me like I’m a fucking freak; like I’m not human. You have no idea what that’s like,” he ranted.

            “Actually,” Dave interjected, “I do.” Rambo and Davesprite, who had previously been perched nearby, landed on either of his shoulders. “I told you a little bird told me where the kidnapper was. In reality, he’s not little at all. He’s kind of a fatass, actually,” he explained, shrugging the shoulder with Rambo on it.

            “Fuck you,” Rambo retorted, nipping at the arm of his shades. The Tornado looked from Dave to the crow and back.

            “…what?” he asked, dumbfounded.

            “I can communicate with crows, douchebag. And while I avoid the spotlight like the plague, I still get feeling like a freak of nature,” Dave clarified.

            “So they can gather information for you?” The Tornado inquired.

            “We could probably figure out his secret identity within three hours, tops,” Davesprite commented smugly. Dave translated.

            “Please don’t. I’ve worked really hard keeping my identity hidden,” he frowned.

            “Don’t worry, bro. They offered when you first came into town, and I made them promise not to,” Dave smiled softly. The hero sighed in relief, then perked up.

            “You could help me!” he shouted excitedly. Dave raised an eyebrow over his shades. “Yeah, you and your crow friends can bring me information, and I can do all the fighting! It will be great!” He suggested, blue eyes practically sparkling.

            “He’s such a goober. I’m in,” Davesprite commented.

            “Yeah, yeah, I guess I’ll help out,” Rambo grumbled.

            “Sure, I guess, but how are we going to get in touch with you when you can’t hear me shouting on top of a building?” Dave asked, frowning. The Tornado paused, eyebrows furrowing in contemplation, before digging into one of the pockets of his pants and pulling out a shitty flip phone with only one number programmed into it, titled “ _BAT SIGNAL_ ” in all caps. “Nice,” he muttered, smirking.

            “So, yeah, just call or text that number, and I’ll meet you somewhere for the info drop off,” the black haired man added. “Unless your crow buddies would fly messages to me?”

            “Fuck you!” Davesprite snapped.

            “What do we look like, fuckin’ carrier pigeons??” Rambo squawked.

            “This ain’t Harry Potter, and I ain’t your owl, bitch!” Davesprite added.

            “Eat my feathery asshole!” Rambo concluded. Dave didn’t feel the need to translate, since the angry cawing and screeching seemed like a good enough answer.

            “Oh boy, that was a very unpopular suggestion,” The Tornado mumbled, hands up in a placating gesture.

            “You have no idea,” Dave chuckled.

* * *

 

            From then on, Dave and his crows (some of them, at least) became The Tornado’s informants. Sometimes, the blue eyed hero hung out with Dave after a bust, and they sat up somewhere really high and talked. This is how Dave found out that The Tornado was a third generation superhero, was about Dave’s age (23) and went to the community college nearby. The man was funny, too, and liked pranks and magic tricks. He also appreciated Dave’s original music, and complimented his photography and art.

            Sometimes, however, life wasn’t sitting on a billboard shooting the shit with a cute superhero. Sometimes, Dave had to patch the hero up after he got injured in a fight.

            Today was one such day.

            Dave had taken to leaving a window of his house open for the crows, and now The Tornado, to fly through. Usually, The Tornado made a smooth entrance, so Dave knew something was wrong when he flew in through the window and crashed face first into the floor.

            “Tornado! You okay??” Dave asked worriedly, putting a hand on the hero’s shoulder. He groaned and rolled over, holding his side. His bleeding side. Dave could barely contain his shocked gasp.

            “It’s okay, Dave. It’s not that bad of an injury. I just need to get bandaged up and rest. I lost a lot of blood getting here,” he reassured. Dave nodded and ran off to get the first aid kit. It had been getting more use as of late.

            “What happened?” Dave inquired as he wrapped the bandage around the hero’s torso. Said hero winced and hissed in pain.

            “Those anti-vigilante assholes happened. They surrounded me. I was about to use a tornado to blow them away and escape, but they… they knew about you, Dave,” The Tornado explained.

            Dave froze. “They know? About me and the crows?” Dave quizzed.

            “No, no, not that. They just know you exist,” The Tornado answered, shaking his head. He chuckled weakly. “They think you’re my boyfriend. I’m lucky, but I’m not _that_ lucky,” his mouth was still covered, but the smirk was audible. Dave’s cheeks flushed, and he couldn’t help his small smile.

            “You could be, if you asked,” he murmured. Those blue eyes he adored turned sad, and he sighed.

            “I couldn’t put you in even more danger than I have already. They were talking about tracking you down and hurting you to get back at me, Dave!” he protested, trying to sit up to argue. Then he groaned, holding his side.

            “Lay back down. You need to rest for a bit,” Dave demanded. The Tornado sighed in defeat, and his hands came up to his face, tugging the bandana off his face. Then he pulled the mask off, dropping it beside him. “Holy shit, Tornado! You-” Dave began, alarms going off in his brain. ‘ _I can see The Tornado’s face! And he’s way hotter than I thought he was_!’

            “Call me John,” he smiled softly, showing off slightly bucked teeth, “John Egbert.” Dave couldn’t help but lean down and press his lips to John’s. John kissed back, and his lips were soft and gentle and, really, everything Dave had imagined they would be.

            The Tornado- _John_ , spent the night right there on the floor of Dave’s living room, and Dave spent the night right by his side, kissing him and playing with his hair until they both fell asleep. In the morning, John was gone, but there was a blue heart drawn in sharpie on Dave’s hand that hadn’t been there the night before. Dave smiled to himself, and didn’t even mind the crows heckling him about being in love.

            He probably was.

* * *

 

            It was about three days later when Dave was bumped into on the street. The elderly man apologized profusely, but Dave just waved him off with a, “it’s alright, sir. Have a good day,” and continued home.

            It was only when he was home, and Rambo was relaying some info to give to John, when Dave reached into his pocket and realized his flip phone was gone. He cursed under his breath.

            “That old man must have picked my pocket,” he muttered.

            “We told you to stay alert, Dave!” Lily complained.

            “He was probably thinking about his _boyfriend_ ,” Seb teased playfully. Dave’s ears went scarlet. He was, indeed, thinking about John when the man had bumped into him.

            Before Dave could retort, Davesprite was flying in through the window, straight at Dave’s face. He screeched at the top of his avian lungs, “They took him! They took The Tornado!”

            Dave shot to his feet. “What?? Who took him? Where’d they go?” He demanded.

            “Those anti-vigilante pricks! The Tornado was standing there, looking around, and then they shocked him and put some kind of collar around his neck! Then they loaded him into a van, and that’s when I flew back here!” he clarified, nervously hopping up and down on Dave’s shoulder.

            “Gather everyone up. Find him. And then report to me when you do,” Dave ordered.

            “But what are you going to do?” Seb questioned worriedly.

            “ _Now_!” Dave snapped. Startled, all the crows in his apartment took off. Dave bit at his nails and paced around his living room, scared and agitated. What had gotten John to drop his guard in public? What did they want to do with him? What if they had hurt him?? Or… or worse…

            Dave shook his head violently, refusing to finish that thought. Everything would be fine. He would save John, no matter what.

            It didn’t take long for someone to find where the group had taken John. Dave grabbed a pocket knife, unsure of what good it would do, and ran towards the location.

            Why did bad guys always take hostages to abandoned factories? Could they get a bit more creative? Whatever, never mind.

            Dave snuck into the factory easily, with the help of Davesprite to guide him. He found himself on a platform overlooking the anti-vigilante group, six guys, including the elderly pickpocket! And in between them, unmasked and tied to a chair, with a weird collar around his neck, was John!

            “All we want to know is the identities of all the vigilantes you know. Then, you can go back home to your cute little boyfriend and play house like you aren’t some kind of freak,” one of the guys told John in a mockingly friendly voice.

            “No you won’t, you’ll kill me. _And_ the other vigilantes,” John sneered, spitting at him. The guy bared his teeth and punched John right in the mouth.

            “Would you rather us go find said little boyfriend and have a little talk with him? I’ll bet he could get you to talk,” he mused. John’s eyes went wide in terror, and he began to plead with them to leave Dave alone.

            That was when Dave stood up and announced, “No need to find me; I’m right here.” They all whipped their heads up to see him, arms crossed sternly. “I think you need to let my boyfriend go,” he ordered, voice calm.

            One of the other guys laughed. “Or what?” he jeered.

            “Or I’ll make you,” Dave answered, voice dropping dangerously low. He could hear the quiet fluttering of wings behind him, barely noticeable. This time, all the anti-vigilantes laughed.

            “What are _you_ going to do?” one of them mocked.

            “It’s simple, really,” Dave shrugged, raising his hand slowly into the air. “I’m going to murder you.” With that, he snapped his fingers, and true to his word, a murder of crows flew out from their spots waiting behind him to swarm the anti-vigilantes, screeching and pecking and tearing at any part they could reach.

            Dave quickly scrambled down while there was confusion and panic to free John from the chair, hugging him tightly. John tugged at the collar, frowning. “This blocks my powers, somehow. One of them has a key to get it off,” he explained.

            The screams and caws died down, and Davesprite landed on Dave’s shoulder with a bloody key in his beak. “Need this?” he asked, dropping it into Dave’s hand. Dave quickly used it to get the collar off, and John demonstrated his powers returning by floating off the ground.

            It was then that they surveyed the area around them. All six of the anti-vigilantes had been killed by Dave’s crow friends. A few crows were lost in the fighting, as well, but they were extremely lucky the casualties were so low.

            “That was really cool, but also terrifying,” John told him as they dug a few small graves for their fallen bird friends. Dave grinned.

            “The pun was pretty awesome too, right?” he chuckled. John looked at him, confused. “A group of crows is called a ‘murder’, dude,” he clarified with a sly smirk.

            “I feel like you’ve been waiting a long time to use that pun, and that’s concerning,” John snorted. Dave shrugged.

            “Wanna go hang out on top of a billboard and make out?” he suggested.

            “Hell yeah,” John answered without even pausing to think about it. He picked Dave up bridal style and the two of them flew off.

            Davesprite and Rambo watched them until they were just specks in the night sky. “I’m happy for those lovebirds,” Davesprite sighed.

            “No more bird puns for tonight; the quota for today is filled,” Rambo retorted.

            “Is anyone hungry? After that fight, I’m feeling a bit _peckish_ ,” Davesprite teased, easily evading Rambo’s beak as the other tried to bite him. The two of them chased each other around, ignoring the sounds of the city as they played.

* * *

 

            The next time The Tornado showed up to stop a crime, he arrived with a partner in a cape made of black crow feathers, with a mask that looked similar to a bird’s face covering his eyes.

            “Who are you?” The criminal sneered. The unidentified hero smirked at him, lifting a hand in the air.

            “You can call me the Crow Whisperer. Or, you can just scream. Either works,” he answered, and then he snapped his fingers.

**Author's Note:**

> I almost killed Rambo in the battle, but I just couldn't do it.
> 
> Also, Lily isn't any canon homestuck character. I just realized the other three named crows were male and that was kind of fucked up ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
